by Anne Conley
The shifters in here were all gorgeous and relatively endangered. Kelli had heard the whispers of this generation—Chase’s generation—being mostly males and what that was doing to the shifter community as a whole. That was why she’d moved. She couldn’t stand to watch the man she loved marry someone else.
Chapter three
Kelli roamed the aisles of the grocery store, absently looking for food to cook for Dan tonight at her mom’s house. She’d told her mom she was calling off the wedding. She was understandably disappointed but was going along with her plan to keep Dan’s parents busy at dinner while Kelli told him.
Which she was dreading with everything inside her. What did a girl cook for a man she was breaking up with? Settling on baked chicken, she decided she could make it bland enough he wouldn’t think of her dinner-making skills as an asset to be missed.
A small, gray-haired lady stood next to her while she was picking out the worst-looking chicken she could find, watching her with a wry smile on her face.
“You look like a girl who could use something,” the lady said. Kelli’s eyes snapped up to her, wondering if the woman had intended to make the double-entendre Kelli heard. Deciding she couldn’t have, because that would be weird, she offered a polite smile.
“I suppose you could say that.” She needed sex, good sex. She needed love. She needed lots of things, but wasn’t getting any of that here. Certainly not at the grocery store.
The lady pulled out a card and handed it to her. Gerri Wilder—Paranormal Dating Agency the card read, and Kelli’s smile faltered.
“I don’t need a date. I’m trying to get out of something at the moment.”
“Oh?” The woman’s expression was open, eyebrows lifted in question. Kelli sighed. She didn’t want to talk about this, but something about the woman told her she could, even if this wasn’t the right place.
Kelli’s eyes darted around, seeing the meat department was deserted. She’d never see this woman again, and maybe she would give her some advice. Her mom certainly hadn’t, even though Kelli knew her mom didn’t want her to make the same mistakes she had.
“I’m breaking it off with my fiancé tonight. It’s sort of hard.”
“Is there someone else?” Ms. Wilder’s eyes danced with humor, and Kelli relaxed further. There was something about her. Kelli wondered if there was some sort of mysticism about the lady; it wouldn’t surprise her.
“Sort of, not that I can have him,” she confided, wondering why she was being so open.
“Well, when are you breaking up with this fiancé?”
Kelli sighed. “Tonight.”
“What do you want in a man?”
Chase, Kelli thought to herself. “Someone who can be with me. Someone who loves me unconditionally. Someone who can handle my … humanness.” She shook her head. The card had said Paranormal Dating. "I'm not sure you can even help me.”
Gerri Wilder winked at her and lowered her voice. “You people have got to learn to trust your instincts. Meet him after you breakup with the other. I’ll have him at your house. Let him in.”
The woman patted her hand and then walked away as if that hadn’t been one of the weirdest conversations she’d ever had in her life. She said she wanted that stuff, and she did. But she didn’t think she was ready for it. Especially if it wasn’t Chase. And she couldn’t have Chase, so what was the point?
Deciding the old woman was crazy, Kelli immediately put the conversation out of her mind. Wandering to the cereal aisle, Kelli decided to grab herself some healthy granola to keep in her mom’s kitchen for the remainder of her stay. Her mom couldn’t get over the fact she no longer ate the chocolate-coated stuff with marshmallows in it for breakfast and Kelli was grown now, preferring a healthier alternative.
She reached for the box of granola cereal on the top shelf just as a long, golden arm snaked out next to her head and reached for the box, a warm, hard body pressing against her back. Enormous, rough hands wrapped around the box, making it look tiny in his massive grasp. A warm scent filled her head, making her thoughts swim around in her head.
Kelli spun to find Chase, the only man who had ever made her feel petite, pressing against her, crowding her in the supermarket, holding her box of granola.
Snatching her cereal and clutching it to her chest like a treasured prize, she inhaled deeply, trying to find the words she wanted to say to him. The only problem was, she had no idea what she wanted to say.
And he only stood there, invading all her space, making it difficult to breathe, to speak, to think.
His eyes were Chase’s normal, soft brown, but she saw the amber flecks in them widen as his nostrils flared.
He dipped his head and took a long sniff of her. The sniff brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes. Chase had always done that right before making a move. The sexual drive of a shifter was something for the books. Chase had been insatiable, and she’d given him all she could, with much pleasure. Kelli missed all the intimacy they’d had, all the things they’d tried and wanted to try. She regretted not doing more with Chase while she had the chance.
Kelli’s inhibitions flew out the proverbial window when she was around him. She couldn’t resist him; there was some weird thing between them that pulled them together every time. She knew that by him marrying Angelica, she would be heartbroken every time she saw him.
And she was. Just knowing he was sniffing her here, and then would be going home to her, killed her.
Kelli sniffed, but it was a different sort. While his had been the long, slow inhale of someone savoring something decadent, hers was the short, hard sniff of someone hiding tears.
Coming back here had been a mistake of epic proportions.
**
Chase hadn’t meant to box her in like this. He’d just been cruising the aisles, grabbing the drinks they were going to need for the job today, and then he saw her. His body had reacted all on its own.
Of course, he’d been ignoring the images his cat kept throwing at him of her yesterday on the trail. Hands and knees, delectable ass in the air as she bent over in the perfect pose of submission to his alpha cat. He’d had to fight his cougar to keep from taking her right there. It was a heroic battle, but he’d won. Barely.
Even now—her eyes downcast, goose bumps rippling up her arms, and the pulse pounding in her neck—he wanted her.
But he was still pissed at her.
And he hated himself for wanting her so badly.
A rumbling, growly noise rose from his chest, and Kelli’s eyes snapped to his. He let the pent-up anger show, no point in holding back. Kelli needed to know how badly she’d hurt him.
“You’re angry at me,” she stated simply, her voice no more than a whisper.
“Of course I’m fucking angry.” Chase forced a calm he didn’t feel into his voice. “You left without a goodbye.” He pressed closer, using his body to intimidate, but was disappointed she didn’t cower. Instead, her chin lifted and jutted out, and he felt the insane urge to kiss her. “For ten years. Not a word. Nothing.”
Yeah. Who needed complete sentences? He was getting his point across.
Sadness filled her eyes, and a triumph filled his chest. He inhaled deeply, scenting her arousal along with all things Kelli, and felt his erection press painfully against his zipper. He wanted to push against her more until his body touched hers everywhere and she could feel what she did to him, still.
His fingers itched to sink into her soft curves, press the slight paunch of her belly against him, feel the smooth skin on her back side. The golden hair she constantly complained about being frizzy was currently tied back, and he longed to delve into it, wrap it around his fist, and yank it.
But her next words brought him back to the present, dissolving the fantasy.
“What was I supposed to do, Chase? Hang around and watch you with her? While you both led the town together? And ignore how much it hurt every time I saw you two together,
knowing it wasn’t real?” Her breath hitched on the last word, and he saw the question in her eyes.
He couldn’t be mad at her. The anger and triumph drained almost as quickly as it had bubbled up, and he felt everything soften around her. His body curled into hers, pressing her up against the shelf, and cereal boxes tumbled to the floor as she tried to escape him.
“It wasn’t real,” Chase whispered in her ear. “Angelica’s done. Divorce was final yesterday.”
He wanted her. His cat wanted her. Every fiber of his being wanted her. So what if he was mad at her? Most of that had evaporated at the first sight of the tears glistening in her green eyes. She was the only person who ever knew him. Even though she’d left, Chase thought she might still be the only one for him. If only she were shifter.
Dropping his hands from the shelf to her waist, he couldn’t not touch her, even if she still clutched the box of cereal in her hands as if it would ward him off. He dipped his head to her neck, where he pulse still pounded and her scent was strongest. He could smell her arousal pumping though her veins and seeping out of her panties.
Chase tugged Kelli closer, even as she pushed him away with that damn box of cereal.
“Chase, don’t.” Her voice was a whimper. “We’re in a grocery store.”
“Remember the bathroom at the library?” he murmured into her neck before biting it softly, then licking it with his tongue. Chase still couldn’t walk into a library, or a bookstore, or even see a damn paperback without thinking about taking her from behind in the library’s bathroom.
Kelli pushed at him harder, even as her breathing grew ragged, and the salty smell of her tears filled his nose, almost overpowering the other scents.
“Of course I remember,” her voice was angry now. “I’m not your sex toy. Get your hands off me.” Her whisper was furious, finally seeping into the part of Chase’s brain that held some rational thought.
One by one, he loosened his fingers and took a step back, slowly.
Looking at Kelli, really looking at her, he realized his mistake. Sure, she held all the outward signs of a woman flushed with desire, but the backdrop of the cereal aisle spoke volumes of his choice of settings for this seduction. The angry set of her tiny body, the tension of her shoulders, the stance of her feet, the automatic arm-crossing after he’d given her the space she wanted, all said she didn’t want this for whatever reason—even if her desire puddled out of her body like a heatwave.
The words about being his sex toy hit him harder than anything else, though.
Helpless, he watched the tears stream down her face as she let out a sob.
“We can’t be together, so why torture ourselves?” Looking like she wanted to say more, she opened her mouth but snapped it shut. Then, without another word, she spun around and ran out of the store, leaving her basket of groceries behind.
Chapter four
That night happened to be the weekly family dinner. Chase didn’t want to be around people—let alone people who could read his every gesture—but knew he couldn’t miss it. It was at Gramma’s house and she got bitchy when anyone missed dinner. She was liable to put BenGay in his shower gel bottle because that’s how she rolled.
And Gerri Wilder was still visiting. She probably had shifter granddaughters to fix them up with or something. Chase groaned at the thought. He wasn’t looking forward to another “chat” with the woman.
His brothers would be there; maybe they would be distracting enough so everyone wouldn’t totally focus on his failures as the eldest son to have a mated bond.
When he got to the door of his parents’ house, Gramma answered it before he could open it himself, her wizened face contorted into a smile.
“Get down here so I can hug your neck,” she cackled out the familiar refrain. “I’m going to need my climbing shoes if you don’t.” Chase’s mother rolled her eyes behind Gramma at the words she spoke to every grandson, every time. Chase obliged, bending his long, lanky frame down to Gramma’s level so she could wrap her frail arms around him.
“Hi, Gramma. Did you make dinner? It smells better than Mom’s,” he said loud enough for his mother to hear, eliciting another eye roll. In actuality, the house smelled fabulous, like it always did—scents of garlic and rich cream sauce filled the air. “Did you make cake? Yum-mee.” He rubbed his belly for effect, just noticing the other woman exiting the kitchen. His nostrils flared as he scented her again. She was a wolf shifter, a strong one, possibly a leader of some sort.
“I made the cake, and it’s delicious,” Ms. Wilder said.
Gramma was eighty-two, acted like the typical grandma, and Chase loved her to pieces, even though he teased her about her lack of cooking skills. While Chase’s parents were busy raising a houseful of shifter boys—no small feat—Gramma was busy spoiling them behind Mom and Dad’s back, every chance she got.
He turned to Gerri, extending his hand. “I bet it is delicious. I can’t wait.”
Her eyes twinkled as she appraised him from head to toe, and Chase felt less than comfortable under her scrutiny. She was a funny old woman, that was for sure. Chase couldn’t help but think about her words yesterday, about fixing him up with his mate. Thankfully, his mom saved him with her chiding.
“I’ll have you know that’s the same Fettuccini Alfredo you’ve been loving since you were five. So hush it and come hug your mama.” His mom held her arms out for a hug, and when he embraced the diminutive woman, Chase felt everything inside him align. Things would be okay. He may be messed up about the divorce, and seeing Kelli again, but as long as he had his family, things would be okay.
Everyone knew yesterday was the day he was supposed to receive the finalized divorce papers, but thankfully, nobody mentioned it. Not until they all sat down to eat, anyway.
They sat in the same spots they sat in every week–Mom and Dad at the ends of the table, Chase and Jude on one side, and Gramma and Tanner on the other, with an extra chair squeezed in for her friend Gerri. Tanner, with dark hair and blue eyes that mirrored his cat, a black panther, was the youngest of the boys and had always been unruly. They’d started sitting that way so Gramma could pinch his thigh when he got out of control, but now that he towered over her, it was almost comical to see his reaction to her thigh pinches now when he said something rude.
Which he did, as soon as they all started passing food around.
“So do we start singing?” he asked before taking on a falsetto voice. “Ding dong, the divorce is here, the wicked witch is go-o-one!” Tanner jumped, as Gramma’s nails predictably grasped the tender flesh of his thigh.
Jude, ever silent, smiled softly to himself, but Chase didn’t miss it. He was a rare albino panther, and this whole mating thing was hitting him hard. With the lack of female shifters in the area, he would have to travel outside of their territory to find a mate. And albino panthers were hunted hard. The shock of white hair and green eyes spun to look at his reaction to Tanner’s song.
“Tanner. That’s enough. Chase will talk about it when he wants to. This is hard for him, undoubtedly.” Their father, the town mayor, slid a sideways glance at the guest at the table, who was eating as if nothing were amiss. He spoke as if he had knowledge—which he didn’t—about divorces and the failures as a shifter male that Chase was feeling right now.
But Dad had no clue.
As cougar shifters, or panthers, they had no pride, or pack, like wolf shifters did. But they got along together in this community. There were specific rules in place to protect the species and keep outsiders from doing them harm, but it wasn’t a huge secret they were there. Shifters worked on the police force, held community leadership roles, and always held the position of mayor of the town. While most towns held elections, this town had always passed the position down from eldest son to eldest son—of Chase’s family.
There were expectations of him. Expectations which he had failed by getting a divorce from his shifter mate.
Chase ha
d always known he would have to sacrifice for his position, and he thought he’d done it right by marrying Angelica—the only available shifter female in the area. The other single female shifter was eight years old.
But it hadn’t worked out, at all, and now he would have to travel somewhere to bring back a mate and try again. Kelli popped back into his mind, unbidden, as she’d dropped to her knees in front of him yesterday on the jogging trail in front of his cat, her head down, and the delectable curve of her spine showing through her thin t-shirt.
As soon as he’d smelled her he’d gotten hard, like he always had when Kelli was around. That was something he’d learned to hide almost as soon as he’d discovered it happened—wearing baggy clothing, keeping things strategically in front of him. Then, they’d gotten older and dated, as teenagers were want to do, and lost their virginity to each other, again, as teenagers tended to do in situations where they were left unsupervised.
“You know,” Gramma started in on one of her matriarchal soliloquys, “I always wondered if your generation was the one to fulfill the Olde Story.” She spoke in a musing tone, but Chase wasn’t fooled. He was a bit shocked, though. Looking over at Gerri, he gauged her reaction, which was nonexistent. He shrugged to himself, wondering what Gramma was talking about, why she said it in front of her guest, but he knew the old woman spoke her mind, whether anyone cared or not. She had more to say, but apparently, their dad didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t think so, Gloria,” he said in his no-nonsense voice. “No sense in putting ideas in their head without them working for it.”
Chase’s mother spoke up. “Let her speak. I think it’s safe to say Chase has worked for it. If being married to that woman for eight years wasn’t work, I don’t know what was. You know you’ve considered it.” Her pointed look at Chase’s father shut him up, making Chase feel a weird longing for someone to have that connection with.